


not my boyfriend

by 2manyboys, ladivvinatravestia



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29098884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2manyboys/pseuds/2manyboys, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladivvinatravestia/pseuds/ladivvinatravestia
Summary: When Joe is invited to an artist’s retreat weekend with his roommate Nicky listed as his +1, they decide to go along with it and pretend they’re dating.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 169
Kudos: 430
Collections: The Old Guard Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

Usually Joe knows better than to talk to Nicky while he’s reading. The thing is, he’s not entirely sure Nicky _is_ reading, though he has three different books open on the table in front of him. He also has sticky note flags on all his fingers, adding them and turning pages like they’re back at uni with an essay due tomorrow.

Saying his name in a sing-song, Joe asks, “Ni-co-lò? Are you free next weekend?”

Nicky only makes a vague agreeable noise, the kind of thing that could mean ‘Yes’ or ‘I’m listening’ or simply ‘I am Nicolò’. Joe decides he’ll try again later. He leaves Nicky at their scuffed up table and wanders into the kitchen, opening the cabinets and thinking about making chili for dinner.

A few minutes later, as he’s pulling ingredients onto the counter and texting his mom for her recipe for the nth time, Joe hears Nicky call from the other room, “Joe? Did you ask me something?”

Joe laughs and calls back, “Yes, but I knew you didn’t hear me.”

His roommate wanders into the kitchen, a sticky note stuck to his forehead. Joe laughs harder when he sees it, hard enough that he has to hold himself up against the counter. Nicky’s so sweet sometimes, especially when he’s focused on work; before he can ask what’s so funny his adorably confused expression makes his brow furrow enough that he feels the sticky note. He blushes faintly as he takes it off, saying, “Sorry, can you ask me again?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Joe replies, waving him off, turning back to the chili preparation. Nicky makes a quiet, unhappy noise and Joe suddenly remembers they talked about this. He agreed he would repeat himself if Nicky asked, even when it wasn’t important. They’re trying to communicate better now that they actually live together and don’t just spend all their time in each other’s dorm rooms. “Shit, sorry Nicky. I asked if you’re free next weekend.”

“The eighteenth?” Nicky asks, pulling down the cumin from their spice rack and setting it among Joe’s ingredient pile. It’s just like him to have Joe’s mom's recipe memorized.

“No uh, the next next weekend, the twenty-fifth and sixth?”

“Oh, yes, I’m free.” Nicky says. He doesn’t ask the obvious follow-up question, just pushes against Joe’s hip, affectionately shoving him out of the way so he can take over gathering spices. It’s a galley kitchen, Joe can’t go far. He settles on the windowsill and watches Nicky work.

“I was invited to that artists’ retreat again this year.” Joe explains, laughingly conceding the space. “You remember, the one in the woods?”

“I remember. You loved it last year.” Nicky says, touching every ingredient briefly like he’s going down the list in his head, “Do we have the good tomatoes?”

“The ones in the-“ Joe starts to ask, but Nicky shakes his head, “Then, no. But don’t make that face, it’ll still be good! I have a craving!”

Nicky throws his hands up in surrender, or possibly just exasperation. It’s Joe’s turn to take over their minimal counter space, which he does by bumping Nicky out of the way with his hip.

“Do you need me to do something while you’re away?” Nicky asks. He pours himself a glass of water from the sink and slides behind Joe to the plant hanging in their kitchen window, his hand briefly touching Joe’s lower back in warning. After he takes a sip he waters the plant from the same glass.

“No, no, you were invited too.” Joe says, fishing around in the lower cabinets for their best soup pot, the green one Nicky got for his birthday last year. “I thought you could use the break or, if you insist on working, a change of scenery at least.”

“I could.” Nicky says slowly, puzzling through this, sitting on the window sill the same way Joe did, “But why was I invited?”

“Oh, that.” Joe says, setting the pot down on the stove, trying to play it off, “They think you’re my boyfriend.”

He’s glad Nicky was sitting because when he sputters around the sip of water he’s taken it doesn’t hit Joe in the face. It’s still not exactly the reaction he was hoping for, he is offering Nicky a free vacation after all.

“Joe, did you-“ Nicky starts, and Joe risks looking at him just for some insight into that tone. He looks _guilty_. It’s a look Nicky wears too often.

“I didn't tell them that, someone must have assumed.” Joe says.

He’s omitting the fact that last time he went on this retreat all of his sketchbooks were full of Nicky, all he could talk about was how excited he was about having just moved in with Nicky, plus whatever he said on the last night to drunkenly supportive friends. Joe doesn’t drink but he still sat around the campfire until very late, never one to pass up an opportunity for s’mores and stories.

“You didn’t correct them either?” Nicky checks.

“I just got the invitation in the mail.” Joe replies. “You shouldn’t feel bad about coming anyway, Quỳnh’s head of the planning committee and she of all people knows it’s not true.”

Nicky still looks uncertain. Joe’s resisting the instinct to be hurt. He’s chopping onion slightly too vigorously, wishing he’d thought to stick it in the freezer earlier because now he’s tearing up and it only makes him feel more frustrated.

Turning to see Nicky chewing on his lower lip, rolling the glass of water in his hands, Joe says, “Forget I asked if it sounds so awful.”

“Joe.” Nicky says, all censure. He doesn’t go on, just slides behind Joe out of the kitchen, that same careful touch to Joe’s back warning him. This time it makes Joe’s spine straighten away from his reach.

Nicky has to think about it, or possibly _not_ think about it for a while; Joe’s known him long enough to know the conversation isn’t over and he hasn’t been rejected, at least not yet. Still, he regrets pushing.

He’s been in love with Nicky since the day he met him. It’s been five years since then. Some days, when wanting him is a sweet kind of ache, it feels selfish. Mostly he can’t believe he gets to cook for Nicky, throw a blanket over him when he falls asleep on the couch, and talk to him about his day, every day. Joe wants things to be nice for Nicky, wants to read his books and tell him all his favorite parts, and he very much wants to be the reason Nicky takes a break.

While Joe’s in the middle of cooking the onions and meat, breaking it up lazily with a wooden spoon, Nicky comes back into the kitchen with the invitation. Joe had left it on the bench near their front door. That’s where he tends to leave all his mail and forget about it until Nicky comes along and complains that he can’t get his boots on without sitting on Joe’s trash. He’s reading it, but glances up at Joe as he enters the room.

“Sorry.” Joe says, meeting his eyes. Nicky nods just once, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I would love to come to the woods with you next next weekend.” Nicky says. “If I’m still invited.”

“If I didn't take you,” Joe says, smiling back, “I'd be a terrible boyfriend.”

* * *

It becomes a running joke, a household meme, in a way that is rapidly making Nicky want to pull his hood up over his head and draw the strings tight to hide his face. (He’s done it before, his nose still sticks out.)

He’s washing his face in the bathroom in the morning when Joe knocks and says, “I’m going for a run, want your usual?”

Joe’s offering to pick up coffee and pastries on the way back; the fact that he knows Nicky’s ‘usual’ at every shop in town is not lost on either of them. Nicky opens the door, smiling reflexively when Joe grins big and wide at his bedhead, and says “Yes, please.”

“I’ll get you the largest coffee they have.” Joe says, “Boyfriend practice.”

Nicky closes the door on him.

He’s rubbing at his temples, hunched over his laptop trying to get this chapter revision done and back to his editor, when Joe gets back.

“I’m home!” Joe calls, which is what he always says, as he kicks his shoes off.

“On the couch.” Nicky calls back, distracted. He glances up when Joe drops his coffee and a paper bag in front of him, mumbling a thank you and glancing down at his laptop screen again. Immediately he looks back up, double-taking because Joe is also holding a bouquet of flowers in red, orange, yellow, and pink like a sunset. While they do sometimes pick up flowers for the table when they go grocery shopping, they never buy anything this big or elaborate. “Joe… what… We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“They’re for my boyfriend, they won’t die over the weekend! And if they do, well, all beauty is fleeting.” Joe says. Nicky supposes Joe’s qualified to make such a pronouncement, considering how breathtakingly beautiful he is. “Have you seen the nice vase?”

The way he looks holding the bouquet, illuminated by the morning sunlight, makes it hard for Nicky to look directly at him. His eyes are sparkling. Nicky only manages to get both hands around his coffee cup by focusing on it intently, mumbling something about Joe’s studio.

Nicky’s been in love with Joe since… he’s not sure when. It became a fact of his existence, creeping on so slowly he almost didn’t notice until he very much did. It’s big and terrifying, the way Joe makes him feel, the way Joe manages to make every corner of his life brighter. He helps Nicky see things differently, gets him out of his head. Hearing his voice can make Nicky’s day. He’s Nicky’s favorite person on Earth.

Joe brings the flowers back into the room in their nice vase, setting them down on the coffee table and sitting beside Nicky to drink his own coffee - black, one sugar - and to eat his croissant. He doesn’t so much as hint that Nicky should stop working but Nicky does anyway, he would always rather be talking to Joe.

“Did you see Nile today?” Nicky asks, taking a sip of his coffee. It’s perfect, very sweet. Joe really did get him the largest size, if he drinks all of it he’ll have trouble sleeping tonight. He might anyway, thinking about the drive to the retreat tomorrow, remembering all the things he forgot to put in his suitcase.

“Yes, she said to tell you hello and to ‘put a ring on it’.” Joe says. He’s eating carefully, trying not to get pastry crumbs everywhere, but he puts his food down to helpfully raise his left hand and turn it back and forth like Beyoncé.

“You told her?” Nicky laughs.

“She asked me where we were going! I had to explain the whole thing, there was no one else in the shop and she seemed so bored. Her architecture professor is no good, Nicky, he reads off his slides.”

“I know, but she needs the credits.” Nicky says, frowning. He doesn’t like to think of Nile at school without them, even though she has friends in her own year who didn’t graduate and abandon her.

“Of course, she’s a fighter. Unlike you, so picky. Constantly dropping classes late, I still don’t know how you graduated.”

Nicky, who remembers switching into Joe’s classes whenever their interests and requirements overlapped, changes the subject before he can incriminate himself too badly, “Nile thinks we should get engaged? Too bad you’ve been practicing your boyfriend routine for a week.”

“I could step it up to fiancé.” Joe says, mock-offended. “But there’s no time to buy rings.”

“Also, we aren‘t drawing attention to ourselves.” Nicky adds. He doesn’t think Joe needs the reminder but it calms him down to hear it again.

“I know, you’re going to spend the whole weekend in a hammock while I’m in seminars and breakout groups.”

“Not the _whole_ weekend.” Nicky says, grinning into his coffee. “I’ll come along on the hikes, I like to watch you do landscapes.”

“I like that too.” Joe says. They grin at each other from opposite ends of the couch for a long moment.

“Well.” Nicky says, fighting down his smile to say this with a straight face because he knows it’ll make Joe laugh so hard he’ll bend over with the force of it, “It’s what your boyfriend would do.”

Joe laughs just like he wanted, almost spilling his coffee everywhere.

* * *

They’re in the car on the way to the cabins when Joe tells him the wifi will probably be spotty. Nicky does not react well to this news.

“Did you purposely wait to tell me this?” Nicky asks, hurt.

“Not at all! Quỳnh sent the updated schedule and information last night and you’d already closed your door.” Joe says. He’d almost knocked anyway, it hadn’t been that late and he suspected Nicky would be up reading, but the closed door thing is another key to them sharing space happily, a literal boundary.

“You’re the one who said you thought I needed a vacation.” Nicky pouts.

“You do! We both do, that’s the point of a retreat. You try new things, talk to people.”

“You know I work alone, most of the time.” Nicky says, like he’s Batman or something.

“Sure, but you talk to me about your ideas and it helps to work through them right?”

“That’s different.” Nicky argues. “It’s you.”

Joe is far too touched to respond to that for a while. Eventually Nicky sighs and relaxes into the passenger seat in dramatic surrender.

“It might be nice to write without being able to obsessively research details.” Nicky concedes.

“You say that like you didn’t bring a backpack full of books with you.”

“I saw how many different pencils you packed.” Nicky warns.

“It’s an artist’s retreat!”

“You almost forgot your toothbrush!”

“That’s it. We’re listening to the playlist Nile made us in silence now.” Joe insists, but he’s laughing too much to really get through it. Nicky understands him anyway.

The theme of the playlist Nile made for their trip is, as far as Joe’s concerned, things he wishes he was brave enough to say. If it wasn’t him and Nicky it might be awkward to sit in silence through songs like _I Wanna Be Your Man_ and _Can You Tell_. It is him and Nicky though. Neither of them comment on it beyond bursting into simultaneous laughter at _Single Ladies_.

It’s only a couple hours out to the woods. They make good time because Joe takes single lane back-roads and speeds whenever he thinks he can get away with it, whenever he doesn’t get stuck behind someone stubbornly sticking to the speed limit. It starts to rain as they make the turn onto a dirt road that will take them to the cabins and Nicky turns the music off without Joe having to ask, letting him focus on making the correct turn.

It’s like the world was painted with a different color palate out here, all rich, deep greens and browns. The little paved lot is only about half-full when they pull up to the semicircle of buildings. They look like they’re made of Lincoln logs, with dark wood exteriors and big porches. The larger ones are full of meeting rooms and large empty spaces, the smaller buildings are cabins like the one they’ll be staying in. Unfortunately for them, their assigned cabin number isn’t among this first group, they’re going to be lugging things through the rain unless Joe can remember where he packed the umbrellas.

Before he can ask Nicky what he thinks, Joe sees a few people come out of the biggest cabin, waving. A moment later, Quỳnh calls him. He shrugs at Nicky and answers the call.

“Hi Joe!”

“Hi Quỳnh, is this the welcome party?”

“It would be if it wasn’t raining, I was just going to tell you there’s a way to drive up to your cabin. You have to come back and park here after though.”

“Better than the alternative.” Joe says. “Do you have the keys?”

“Yupp! I went over and unlocked it for you already, Nicky texted me when you were close.”

“Thank you Quỳnh, you’re a lifesaver. Just tell me where to go?” Joe says, and then, to Nicky, “Put your seatbelt back on.”

“Put me on speaker before you start driving, dumbass.” Quỳnh says.

Joe laughs and does, handing his phone to Nicky so he can focus on backing out of their parking space and turning the car around.

“Okay so you passed the turn just up the road, on your left now, there’s two red posts?”

“I see it.” Joe says, taking the turn.

“Great! Anyway, hi Nicky!”

“Hi Quỳnh.” Nicky says, smiling at Joe’s phone like they’re on FaceTime.

“I’m so glad you’re here. We got the best caterers, I’m not convinced Joe feeds you.” She says.

“I feed us both.” Nicky protests, but quickly changes his tune, “I hear I have you to thank for me being here.”

“Do you?” Quỳnh says, voice full of mischief. “Well, I’ll take a hug when you’re done getting settled.”

“You’ll get two!” Joe cuts in, “Is Andy here?”

“Yeah, she’s out hiking with Lykon. I can’t wait for that wet T-shirt contest look when she comes back.”

“If you like her so much, why don’t you marry her?” Joe asks, a long-running joke that’s no longer funny to any of them but simply _must_ be said. Andy and Quỳnh have been engaged for two years now.

“I’m hanging up on you.” Quỳnh tells him, and does. Nicky laughs, soft and so distracting.

Joe backs the car up as close to the back door of their cabin as he can get, trying to make their unloading process easier and faster, so they don’t have a wet T-shirt contest of their own.

It’s quick work in the end, Nicky loads up with his three different backpacks, laptop bag, and a tote bag of snacks and runs for the door. Joe leaves most of his art supplies in the car, he just shoulders a massive duffel and follows Nicky in.

Stumbling through the doorway, Joe finds Nicky has paused a half-step into the room, most of his bags unceremoniously dumped to the side. His hair is a little wet, dripping down the back of his neck. Joe stares at it, thinks about how badly he wants to kiss him there, and then swallows the feeling and says, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Nicky says, but he sounds weird.

“Okay, well, you make a better door than a window,” Joe jokes. He slides past Nicky sideways, hitting his ass with his duffel as he goes, and then they’re both standing there staring.

There’s only one bed. It’s a nice bed with warm looking flannel sheets, much bigger than the twins they’ve shared in their dorm rooms, that’s what makes it intimidating. Unlike a twin, Joe wants to spread Nicky out on this bed. Wants to curl up close to him by choice rather than necessity.

Joe hears himself say, “Which side do you want?”

“The left.” Nicky says quietly. It’s the side that faces the front door, but Joe suspects Nicky’s just choosing at random.

“There’s supposed to be bagels and coffee at the welcome meeting and then, except for meals, I think I’ll be busy until sundown.” Joe says, setting his bag down on the right side.

“Sounds good.” Nicky says, and then, “I mean, coffee sounds good, not-“

Joe laughs, “Okay, you do need caffeine.”

* * *

Nicky needs more than caffeine, although his brain is already buzzing anxiously. Actually, maybe he shouldn’t have coffee, if he does he might be up all night with Joe’s strong arms around him. For real this time, not just dreaming of it.

It hits him, standing in this cozy little cabin, no more than a bedroom and a bathroom where Joe is washing up and missing Nicky’s panic, that this was a bad idea. He can’t do this, he wants it too badly. Unless…

Maybe, Nicky thinks, shaking off the wave of doom as quickly as it came over him, maybe he should embrace the opportunity. He had been worried about living with Joe, so worried he’d almost let himself be talked out of it, and it only brought them closer together. Pretending to be Joe’s boyfriend for the weekend might be exactly what he needs to get over him, to stop yearning for Joe when he’s two feet away. He’ll have Joe closer and then, maybe, he can let him go.

If it doesn’t work at least he’ll have the memories, Nicky thinks to himself with a sick sense of practicality.

He hasn’t been ‘practicing’ like Joe but he knows enough to take Joe’s hand when they run from the car—parked again in their original spot—up to the largest cabin. Nicky doesn’t let go when they step inside, he lets himself cling, lets himself rub his thumb along the back of Joe’s hand.

They enter a room with a couple dozen people gathered in groups. Some linger by a buffet-style spread on their left, others around an enormous fireplace directly ahead. Small tables with folding chairs take up the right side of the room, temporary seating just for breakfast. The combination of old, worn-down carpeting and dark wooden walls and ceilings leaves an impression somewhere between a cozy cabin and the home of a witch.

Nicky wants to drag Joe straight over to Quỳnh, to pay their hug debt, but they’re waylaid by another member of the planning committee who descends upon them with name tags and sharpies. She’s at least a full foot shorter than Joe and her own name tag says “Larissa, she/her”.

She smiles and says, “You must be Nicky. Nice to put a face to the name! I’m Larissa.”

“Nice to meet you Larissa.” Nicky replies, glancing at Joe in confusion.

“We had just moved in together when I came last year.” Joe says, smiling sheepishly. Nicky smiles back, squeezing Joe’s hand. He’s glad Joe was here saying nice things about him, all Nicky remembers about that weekend is that he played music Joe doesn’t like without headphones in. “Larissa does murals mostly, I've shown you her instagram, remember?”

“Oh, yes! They’re beautiful!” Nicky says.

“Thank you.” She says, then, slightly teasing, “Sorry, but you probably have to stop holding hands to fill out these name tags.”

Joe laughs and Nicky goes slightly pink, letting their hands fall apart so they can take the stickers and sharpies from her. Without hesitating, Joe turns around to offer Nicky his back as a writing surface. Larissa hides her smile and says, looking very charmed, “Talk to you later guys, make sure you get some food before it’s gone.” She goes to greet some other new arrivals.

Nicky braces the name tag against Joe’s back, just below his shoulder blade and writes his name and pronouns (NICKY, he/him) in a messy scrawl. As he’s sticking it to his T-shirt he turns around so Joe can do the same with him. It tickles a little, makes him think about laying on his stomach and letting Joe draw on his skin instead, and then just as quickly the warmth of his hands is gone.

“You guys know there’s a table like, _right_ there?” Quỳnh says in lieu of a greeting, walking up to them and flinging her arms open. Joe is still sticking on his name tag (Yusuf/Joe :) he/him) so Nicky goes in for a hug first.

“I missed you.” Nicky whispers, forgetting that he meant to ask questions about this whole boyfriend thing.

She smells like lavender and she smiles and kisses his cheek when they pull apart. Quỳnh was his best friend for all of uni and she’s his best friend now, though they’ve had some stupid fights because they’re both stubborn and don’t always realize they’re not communicating well. She looks good, happy, wearing ripped jeans and a flannel so large it might actually belong to Andy. Her hair is long and braided down her back; Nicky remembers doing that for her, misses it. Joe has managed to get his name tag affixed and swoops in for his own hug.

“It’s been so long!” He says, visibly restraining himself from picking her up because she’s told him she hates it.

“It’s been two months you big baby.” Quỳnh says, but she kisses his cheek too. “You saw us for Andy’s birthday, remember?”

“A lifetime ago.” Joe insists. “So much has changed! I bought a car, Nicky’s book got published, my little sister got a dog!”

“And you’re dating, huh?” Quỳnh says, glancing between them with a teasing smile. Nicky takes Joe’s hand again.

“Well,” Joe says, looking to Nicky for help and getting none besides another squeeze of his hand, “You know.”

“Sure I do.” Quỳnh agrees, grinning wider. “Here’s your cabin keys, before I forget. You better introduce Nicky to everyone, I have to oversee all the weather-related backup plans.”

“Alright boss.” Joe agrees, grinning, “Thank you.”

“Let us know if we can help.” Nicky adds. It’s nice to say us and we that way, the same way Quỳnh just did for herself and Andy. Quỳnh gives him a funny look like she heard the weight behind the words, but nods and heads off towards the entrance.

* * *

Joe and Nicky get waved over to the group huddled around a fireplace as if it isn’t early fall but midwinter. They call out various greetings to Joe who says, “Everyone, this is Nicky. Nicky, this is Allan, José, Elvira, Charlie, Adi, and Kevin, the artist formerly known as-“

“Last year’s jokes aren’t funny, Yusuf.” Kevin interrupts while the group dissolves into giggles.

“Also, we’re literally all wearing name tags.” Elvira adds.

“Nice to meet you.” Nicky says, quiet in the face of their exuberance and inside jokes.

Joe tugs Nicky closer, releasing his hand to stretch his arm around behind him and put it on his waist, tucking Nicky against his side. Nicky glances at him, perhaps surprised at the casual intimacy of the gesture, but when he turns their faces are very close together and he turns back again just as quickly. Joe’s friends are watching them, grinning.

If he missed Quỳnh after two months he really missed this group the past year. He missed exchanging halal recipes with Kevin, missed the way Charlie will be silent for an hour and pipe up with the funniest comment just to derail the conversation, missed watching José work with charcoal and streak grey across his forehead. Joe feels like the last weekend they were all together was foundational for him as a new graduate and an artist trying to do everything all the time. This moment feels strangely like the first time he brought Nicky home during break, he wants every family he has to love Nicky as much as he does.

As the group strikes up their earlier conversation again, Nicky says, “I’m getting coffee, do you want some?”

“Yes, please.” Joe says, letting him go as casually as he can considering his index finger was tugging at Nicky’s belt loop. He watches Nicky go and then turns back to find most of the group, minus Adi and Allan who are doing something on their phones that might be a Pokemon game, are laughing at him. “What?”

“You’ve got it bad.” Elvira says.

“He always has.” José points out. Joe forgot for a second they overlapped for a couple years at uni.

Joe can only shrug and agree, hand to his heart, “He has bewitched me, body and soul.”

“Alright Mr. Darcy, sit down.” Charlie says. The group laughs and Joe snags a seat on the empty end of a couch.

“Anybody remember the schedule?” Joe asks.

“Yeah, we were meant to hike after the first meeting and speaker. Then break out groups in the afternoon and another lecture at the end.” Kevin says. “Quỳnh’s going to fight the sky if it’s still raining in a few hours.”

“Which groups did you choose?” Elvira asks, and the group goes around answering, comparing schedules on their phones like it’s the first week of school again.

When Nicky comes over with two to-go cups Joe realizes there’s isn’t room on the couch next to him anymore. He’s about to offer to stand and let Nicky sit, but Nicky’s mouth quirks around a smile Joe wants very much to kiss, sweetly mischievous.

“This seat taken?” Nicky asks, gesturing at Joe’s lap. He says it quietly enough that Joe couldn’t say if anybody else hears, still Joe feels his mouth go dry at this public flirtation. He almost laughs, because of course it’s a joke, Nicky isn’t really going to- he _is_ though. He’s still waiting for an answer.

“Saved it for you.” Joe says, it comes out far too earnest. Nicky’s smile melts into something softer. He hands Joe his coffee first and then sits across Joe’s thighs, no hesitation, snuggling into the arm Joe wraps around his waist to help support him.

Just like the single bed, Joe is struck by the realization that it doesn’t matter that he can remember holding Nicky like this before. They’ve squeezed onto public transport and into friends’ cars like this, they’ve always been tactile, but Joe’s never held Nicky as his boyfriend. He’s a little nervous doing it now.

“Just because it’s raining doesn’t mean you have to go back to the cabin and work.” Joe tells Nicky, who smiles.

“I know. I was hoping Andy would get here before you had to go be a professional.” Nicky whispers back. He shouldn’t be worried about interrupting the ongoing conversation about commission negotiation, the group is getting heated, but the low tone of his voice makes this feel that much more intimate.

“I’ll see you for lunch?” Joe asks. He doesn’t mean to be clingy, even though he literally is clinging right now. He wants Nicky to have whatever weekend he wants to have, even if that means they fail at playing the part of boyfriends. It’s not like anyone can send Nicky home now. “If it’s not still raining we were going to picnic.”

“Sounds perfect.” Nicky says. Joe can only agree.

When Quỳnh starts herding the artists through a set of double doors to settle in for their opening speaker, Joe can’t help thinking if he was really dating Nicky he’d steal a kiss goodbye. A tiny one, a press of lips, a taste of the too-sweet coffee Nicky loves. He has to be careful not to let Nicky catch him looking. Worrying about that prompts a stern reminder to himself that he isn’t really dating Nicky, that Nicky’s only here for the great outdoors, only here to see their friends and take a break. Knowing Nicky, he’s also here to help Joe save face and that, in particular, is sobering.

“I’ll see you for lunch.” Joe repeats, after Nicky’s hopped off of his lap and helped him off the couch on legs that have fallen asleep and are buzzing from Nicky’s weight.

“You will.” Nicky says, laughing at him a little. “Unless I fall asleep.”

“I’ll come find you.” Joe promises even as Quỳnh grabs onto his shirt sleeve and pulls him away.


	2. Chapter 2

Andy doesn’t show up within a few minutes so Nicky finishes his coffee and wanders back towards the cabin. It’s not raining as hard anymore, but the trees and buildings still drip and he has to watch his step along the short muddy paths between buildings. Back in the cabin, Nicky takes a moment to flop face-first into the single bed and muffle a scream into the mattress.

He doesn’t let himself wallow for long; Nicky rolls over and stares at the ceiling trying to decide what will best distract him from thoughts of Joe. Thoughts like how good he smells, how gorgeous his smile is, how comfortable it was in his embrace, the way his friends tease him with such affection; all of these things are drops of rain in the bucket of Nicky’s feelings. It’s nearly overflowing.

He gets up to unpack his work things on the little wooden table and sits down but can’t bring himself to open his laptop or crack a single spine after that. Nicky’s thinking about kissing Joe and tasting bitter coffee. He’s thinking about Joe getting caught in the rain and stripping off his shirt to wring it out. He’s thinking about Joe warm against his back, the way Nicky wants him tonight, the way he might get to have him just this once.

Nicky makes an aggravated sound and stands up in a hurry, chair scraping against the floor. He paces for a moment and makes a decision. Raining or not, this is a restless feeling he’s got to move through. Nicky tugs his hiking boots on and barrels out the door, straight into Lykon.

Lykon catches him easily, only taking a single step back to absorb the impact, and hugs Nicky tightly like they’d planned this reunion.

“Ah, Nicky! It’s good to see you too!” Lykon says, laughing. Quỳnh said he’d been hiking in the rain but he’s warm and dry now. Nicky can only assume he and Andy had time to change and Quỳnh didn’t get her contest after all.

“I’m so sorry,” Nicky says as they let go, hanging on to each other’s arms and shoulders, “I didn’t mean to tackle you like that.”

“Feel free.” Lykon replies, smiling wider. “You look good! Quỳnh said you were here but I didn’t quite believe her, came to see for myself.”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” Nicky asks, knowing that Lykon probably catches his flash of guilt. Though Quỳnh is Nicky’s best friend, he knows Lykon takes the top spot for her, especially since Lykon married one of Andy’s sisters. She’s a sculptor, the reason Lykon is here too.

Lykon only shrugs and throws an arm around Nicky’s shoulder, tugging him along a muddy path away from the cabin. “You’re dressed to hike but I bet I can convince you to set up hammocks with Andy and I. Laziness and gossiping is the only agenda item for us plus-ones.”

Nicky slumps with relief and nods, “That sounds wonderful. Wait, should I go back for a book or-”

“No work! Just _hang out_ with us.” Lykon insists, over emphasizing the pun. “Like old times.”

Nicky laughs dutifully and lets himself be pulled along.

They meet up with Andy at a little grove of trees planted in perfect squares for hammocks specifically. It’s like a game of dots and boxes, some are already set up, people talking to each other from parallel seats, others bundled up like caterpillars to block raindrops. Andy is in black leggings and a pastel rainbow tank top, engagement ring dangling from a chain around her neck. She’s reaching around a tree to secure her hammock straps, cursing as she slips in some mud, but gives up quickly when Nicky calls her name.

Nicky hugs Andy for a beat longer than she holds on to him, hand on the back of his head, secretly agreeing with Joe that it’s been too long since they’ve met up.

“My fiancé,” Andy says, because she still grins every time she gets to call Quỳnh that, “Told me you were coming this weekend, but nobody can tell me how you and Joe finally got together.”

Nicky licks his lips, nervous, stumbling mentally over _‘finally’_ , uncertain if she’s joking and, if not, how best to explain. Andy’s eyes go soft at his hesitation and she pushes a hammock into his hands. He takes it gratefully, ducking his head to mumble, “There's nothing to tell, really.”

She and Lykon must mistake his slight blush as embarrassment about whatever incident they imagine happening between him and Joe and not the shame of lying even by omission. Nicky isn’t sure why everyone believes so easily, why they aren’t questioning him further. Joe likes him of course, they get along enough to live together even though Nicky’s been painfully obvious about his feelings for as long as he’s known he had them, but clearly Joe deserves better. Clearly Joe wants more. He’s a little offended on Joe’s behalf that their friends assume he would settle for Nicky, when he could make anyone happy.

Nicky says none of this out loud, choosing instead to set his hammock up quietly and let Andy and Lykon’s chatter about their hike and home renovation projects and cat-sitters wash over him. He’s almost dozing off, staring up into the treetops, when a new voice joins the conversation. The man sets up his hammock to complete their square between four trees and introduces himself.

“Nice to meet you all, I’m Booker.” He says. Something about the way he pronounces it makes Nicky believe it’s not his real name.

“Are you also the fortunate partner of an artist?” Lykon asks, grinning when Andy rolls her eyes.

“Ah, no, I guess I’m crashing the party.” Booker says, “I’m here as part of my rehab program. One year sober.”

“Congratulations.” Nicky says, Andy and Lykon echoing him.

Booker asks them what their partners do, curious and seemingly uninterested in talking any more about himself. Lykon and Andy answer readily, cheerfully, but Nicky gets stuck trying to describe Joe and what he does.

“He is... a painter, mainly, portraiture and landscapes. I would say that the way he sees people and the world is very beautiful and he’s able to capture that on canvas.” Nicky says, not managing to meet anyone’s eyes but Booker, who he thinks won’t give him a knowing sort of look.

He’s wrong of course, Booker grins exactly the way Joe does when Nicky gets on a tangent about the specifics of whatever historical period he’s writing in. Nicky’s reaction is just the same too, he gets flustered, waves his hands more, and keeps talking.

“He is easy to trust and to love, I think he builds a connection with everyone he paints that you can see in his final products. He works very hard and has a big heart and…”

“Nicky,” Andy interrupts, covering her mouth like she doesn’t want him to see her laughing, “You haven’t told Booker his name yet.”

“Oh.” Nicky says, feeling himself go pink again. He’s not like this usually, but everything about this vacation has him feeling slightly tipsy. “His name is Joe. Yusuf Al-Kaysani, but Joe to friends.”

“I’ll have to look him up when I have a connection again.” Booker says, making a note in his phone. Nicky nods, mumbling something about a website and Instagram. The four of them settle into a comfortable silence for long enough that Nicky starts to feel hungry but not quite willing to get up and do something about it.

Suddenly, Joe tumbles into his hammock.

His body is a shock of unexpected warmth, his laugh exuberant and so loud it drowns out Nicky’s startled swearing. He’s careful with his knees and elbows but he’s still heavy, knocking the breath out of Nicky and nearly making them both tumble off the side before they manage to rearrange to sit side by side.Their self-contained impromptu game of Twister leaves them facing the inside of the square of hammocks, bodies pressed together, pink-cheeked and hair tousled. Andy, Lykon, and Booker are laughing too, hard enough that their own hammocks look unsteady.

“You must be Joe.” Booker says, making Nicky hide his face in both hands.

“Just what stories have you been telling, my Nicolò?” Joe asks him, laughing when Nicky’s helpless shrug is again almost enough to dislodge them.

“That’s him alright.” Andy says.

“Could you tell by how easy he is to love?” Lykon asks, grinning at Nicky and Booker in turn.

“It's lunch time, yes?” Nicky interrupts, before his friends can dig him into a deeper hole.

Joe bumps their shoulders together and says, “You have to work for it first.”

“Do I?” Nicky asks skeptically, not realizing how that sounds until the others laugh. Joe caves immediately, shaking his head.

“If lying in a hammock _really_ tired you out, I could carry you.” He teases. “But no, not really, from what I remember we aren’t climbing the mountains yet.”

* * *

He remembered correctly, the hike to their picnic spot isn’t really work; the hill is so short their whole group doesn’t fit along the incline at once. Nicky and Joe are among the first to settle down on a blanket, hands slowly disentangling, and they watch everyone else settle around them. For some reason, nobody claims the other half of their blanket.

They have bagged lunches, picked up at the main cabin before they started this trek, and unpacking them reveals clementines and sandwiches and chips and various desserts. Exchanges are made quickly, foodstuffs flying through the air, people ducking and catching and laughing. Joe sweet talks Nicky into trading sandwiches and peeling their fruit, he’s always been better at it.

This backfires spectacularly the first time Nicky lifts a piece towards him and Joe automatically leans forward to take it with his mouth. They both pause for a second, wavering, surrounded by friends and in their own world. Joe mumbles “Bismillah” and Nicky presses the slice of citrus to his mouth, sticky fingers lingering. He eats a slice himself just afterwards, a kiss once removed. Joe slowly loses his mind on every repetition. If someone asked afterward what they’d been talking about, he would have no answer.

Nicky is so effortlessly breathtaking in the afternoon sunshine, laughing softly and stretching his long legs out in front of him. If this were real Joe would tell him so. If he didn’t think it might make Nicky look away from him, might make his expression sour uncomfortably, he’d say it. Joe’s seen people come on to Nicky before, seen the disappointed slump in their shoulders as they’re always sent away with Nicky frowning guiltily after them. Joe won’t do that to him.

They spend just over an hour with their faces tilted up, cloud watching, with their pinkies hooked together on the blanket between them.

After lunch, Nicky walks with Joe to his next group. He’s excited for this one, it’s a timed figure drawing exercise where they start with ten seconds, then a minute, then ten minutes, then an hour, everyone capturing the same series of poses. Comparing his own products is fun, but the real joy is discussing method and style with the group afterward.

Just as he’s about to squeeze Nicky’s hand and say goodbye, Quỳnh comes out of the room with a frown on her face that he recognizes as a precursor to some aggressive problem-solving. It’s just like when they stole the piano from another dorm in uni. (Good times. They put it back eventually.)

She zeroes in on them and says, “Nicky, I hate to ask this of you...“

“How can I help?” Nicky asks, probably recognizing the same look. It’s what makes her a great events planner and a pro behind a pottery wheel. Quỳnh can be an unstoppable force or an immovable object, whichever suits the situation.

“Can you sit still and be stared at for a couple of hours?” Quỳnh asks, her frown disappearing. She already knows the answer. Joe does too.

Joe sees this coming like an oncoming train. He can’t stop it, he can’t get out of the way. Joe outright refuses to be jealous about this but Nicky has never said no to Quỳnh if he can help it. Just like earlier when he had Nicky in his lap, Nicky’s voice in his ear, Nicky’s fingertips brushing up against his mouth, his brain shuts off. Nicky’s going to model.

“Yes, of course.” Nicky says, “What happened?”

“Our model got called away, their partner went into labor early.” Quỳnh explains, “Which reminds me, I have to make sure everyone signs a card to send with flowers… Anyway. You don’t have to be nude.”

“I’d, ah-” Nicky starts, glancing at Joe and back just as quickly, “Prefer not to be, I think.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” Quỳnh says, taking Nicky inside with her. He casts one last look back at Joe, a question in his eyes. Joe shoots him two thumbs up.

Josè claps a hand on Joe’s shoulder a moment later because he’s still standing there frozen in the doorway. “You good, man?”

“Sure.” Joe says, knowing it doesn’t sound convincing, “Nicky’s good at this. It’ll be fun.”

“Uh-huh.” Josè laughs, “Of course you’d get him to pose for you. Let’s go in, yeah?”

They claim spots next to each other in the semi-circle of easels. Joe keeps his head down for a while, getting himself set up the way he likes, greeting friends as they come through the door and raise their eyebrows at him. Eventually he has to look over at Nicky and Quỳnh.

Nicky has settled onto a tall stool with Quỳnh hovering nearby, talking him through the first pose. He’s nude except for a heavy sheet draped over one shoulder, down across his chest, between his spread legs. He’s got one knee bent, foot braced against a support slat on the stool, the other leg extended. Nicky’s posture is impeccable, an arm at his side and the other resting against his thigh. Quỳnh is gently adjusting the angle of his face and shoulders, making him laugh.

Yusuf is a professional artist. He’s capable of being mature in this situation. He’s only thinking about the pale skin of Nicky’s inner thighs with about ten percent of his brain, the other ninety percent is crowing about how good his studies will be. He’s been drawing Nicky for years. This isn’t a competition at all but, also, he’s going to win.

Quỳnh fusses with the draping of the sheet for a moment, soliciting input from the artists as they all settle onto their own stools. As she steps back to cast a critical eye over him, Nicky looks at Joe.

He smiles, tentatively at first. Joe smiles back, dragging his gaze away from Nicky’s collarbone like it takes physical effort, and Nicky’s smile goes lopsided and genuine.

“Can you hold that?” Quỳnh asks, loud enough that Nicky blinks and his face drops back into a neutral sort of frown. He doesn’t shift the position of his limbs even though he was clearly a little startled, Joe knew he was good at this. Quỳnh laughs and adds, “The smile, Nicky.”

“Oh.” Nicky says, licking his lips, embarrassed, “Yes, I think so.”

He has to look back at Joe before the smile returns.

* * *

Nicky doesn’t get this way very often, he’s not used to it. It takes him a long time to want someone the way he wants Joe and even then the stars have to align for him to want it in a way that makes him feel like doing something about it. Which is to say, sitting mostly nude with Joe’s eyes on him for about an hour and a half makes Nicky want to jerk off. Right now, while he knows Joe is busy and won’t come back to the cabin to interrupt him.

It still feels like he has to rush, hot behind the ears, aware of that feeling slipping lower and lower. Nicky locks the door.

He flops onto the bed and closes his eyes, thinking about Joe’s focused expression, the spread of his legs. “Fuck.” Nicky whispers. He touches his mouth. He opens it and stops, fingers resting on his bottom lip.

He can’t do this here, in their bed that isn’t really _their_ bed. Nicky goes for the shower instead.

He strips quickly, tugging the curtain open and impatiently figuring out the faucet, wishing he had listened better when Joe explained it earlier. It’s cold in the bathroom before the steam fills it up. Somehow the goosebumps don’t detract from the mood he’s in. When he finally gets it running, Nicky steps in and pulls the curtain closed, turning slowly under the spray to warm up. He lets himself groan, flushing at how loud it is. There’s no reason for Joe to come back to their cabin now but if he did for some reason he would know instantly what Nicky’s up to.

Though the thought of that jolts through him, he puts two fingers in his mouth to keep quiet, sucking on them and teasing himself with his other hand. It doesn’t take much to get properly hard, between the fingers in his mouth and the imagined heat in Joe's eyes on him back in the studio. His attention on Nicky’s body was too close to what he wants without tipping over, all fantasy, the competence of his artist’s eye too professional for Nicky to think Joe really wants him. Still, it’s enough to have him fizzing with arousal.

Too soon, Nicky feels like he doesn’t have enough hands. If Joe were here he wouldn’t have to take the hand out of his mouth to soap himself up. He wouldn’t have to imagine Joe taking over any or all of the ways he wants to be touched right now. That’s not quite right either, Nicky realizes, stroking himself with a soapy hand, dragging the bar across his chest. If Joe were here he’d be on his knees.

He drops the soap and leans heavily against the wall of the shower, other hand gripping himself tight enough that he can fuck into it. Nicky doesn’t mean to but without the fingers in his mouth to stop it he pants, “Joe, Joe, Joe.” He lets himself pretend that if Joe came back now that the combined sounds of Nicky saying his name and clearly jerking off might be enough to convince him to join Nicky in the shower, even fully clothed. He knows better but it’s too tempting a fantasy to resist.

Joe would press him back against the wall and cover Nicky’s hand with his own, would kiss him with water dripping from his eyelashes, would tug on his hair and say, “Come for me, Nicky.”

Nicky comes fast, not pacing himself in the least. He’s helpless not to, squeezing his eyes closed and imagining Joe saying his name with heat and affection, the weight of Joe on his tongue, Joe’s hands in his hair. It’s good, so good, slick and hot, but part of him is still focused on the noise he’s making, the obvious slick sounds of his hand and his panting breaths and racing heart reaching a fever pitch that culminates in Nicky shoving fingers back in his mouth to bite down on instead of shouting.

When he catches his breath, Nicky shivers, turns the hot water up, and sings.

* * *

Joe knocks twice before letting himself into the cabin, surprised that Nicky locked it until he hears the shower running. He also hears Nicky’s low voice, amplified and filtering through the slightly ajar bathroom door. Nicky doesn’t do this much at home, it still hits Joe like a sack of bricks every time. He sits down hard at the end of their bed just to listen, just to think about Nicky’s mouth forming the words, the way his body must be moving with every breath.

He stops himself before he thinks any more about Nicky’s body—surely he’s had enough of that today without getting greedy—and plays around on his phone to distract himself. It’s just… Nicky sings when he’s happy. Joe can’t stop thinking about that. Knowing Nicky had a good day makes him happy too.

His voice is lovely, emotional, although Joe doesn’t know enough Italian yet to understand the words he’s singing.

That unspoken happiness, mirrored in the way they smile shyly at each other all through dinner, carries them through to sundown. Even when Joe goes off with Kevin for prayers, or Nicky gets wrapped up in describing his research process to a captive audience of fellow nerds, or any other time they're not holding hands and stealing food off each other’s plates, Joe is thinking about Nicky singing in the shower. He’s thinking about how to make sure he’s happy like that as much as possible.

Nicky makes him that happy just by waving at him from across the room. Joe’s not about to sing in front of everyone but he feels like he could. At least he feels that way until reality comes crashing back in.

After dessert, Andy steals Nicky’s chair and leans on the table to better stare Joe down. “Okay seriously, what’s going on?”

Joe shrugs, not meeting her eyes, “Same old, same old.”

“It can’t be.” Andy groans, “You aren’t really together?”

“No.” Joe admits quietly, fiddling with his rings. Andy reaches out and puts a hand over his, getting him to look back up at her.

“He loves you.” She says.

“I know. I love him too.”

“I _mean_ -“

“Andy, stop. I know what you mean.” Joe says, still keeping his voice low, keeping an eye on Nicky across the room. He thinks Adi is trying to sweet talk him into posing again sometime. “He doesn’t want that, least of all from me.”

“Joe.” Andy sighs. “Quỳnh and I are _begging_ you to ask him that.”

Just the thought of it has him shaking his head, emphatic and a little panicked. “No way. No. I’m not asking him for anything.”

“I’m not saying throw yourself at him, I’m saying ask him if he feels the same.” Andy keeps her tone gentle but Joe still pulls his hands out from under hers, anxiously scratching at his beard.

“We’re happy like this.” Joe argues, quickly because Nicky is making his way back towards them, “I don't want to lose him.”

Andy’s frustrated groan tells him exactly what she thinks about that. She stands up, glances at Nicky and then back down at Joe to say, “You’re being short-sighted you know. If I have to watch you pretend everything’s fine when he asks you to be his best man in a few years…”

“Andy.” Joe says, stung. That was cruel, especially because Nicky gets back to their table soon after, gently pressing his hand between Joe’s shoulder blades in greeting.

He glances between Andy and Joe and seems to pick up on the tension. “Should I… give you a minute?”

“Just warning him not to mess with you.” Andy jokes. It falls flat with all three of them uncomfortably aware that a shovel talk is not only unnecessary but unwarranted.

“Oh.” Nicky says, quietly, taking his hand away from Joe’s back so quickly it hurts worse than what Andy just made him imagine. “I’m... going to get ready for bed, ok?”

“I’ll be right behind you.” Joe promises. He’s still staring at Andy.

“Goodnight Nicky.” Andy says. She smiles at him and he returns it uncertainly, reaching out to just barely brush his fingers against Joe’s back again as he goes.

Joe waits, he knows Andy isn’t done talking.

When Nicky’s out of the room she takes Joe’s hands in hers and says, “Think about it Joe, come on. You can’t pine away for him forever.”

The stubborn part of Joe digs its heels in, insists that he can actually and he’s happy to. He’s not though. This weekend proves it, every time Nicky looks at him he aches. Maybe Andy’s right but she doesn’t have to break his heart for him, and anyway Joe’s point still stands. He won’t ask Nicky for anything, couldn’t possibly pressure him for more. Nicky already gives him the world.

“We’re happy.” Joe says again.

Andy just sighs, kisses his forehead and says, “Goodnight Joe.”

He looks up at the stars the whole way back to their cabin.

After all that, and Nicky’s reaction to the bed earlier, settling down to sleep together is less awkward than Joe expected it to be. The mattress is lumpy, old and dipping slightly in the middle, forcing them to touch no matter which way they arrange themselves. Neither of them apologizes for it. There’s no tension between them, just the warmth under the blankets and the chorus of crickets and cicadas outside.

“Did you have a good day?” Nicky asks, quiet, eyes already half closed. Joe is fighting the urge to shift closer and brush the hair off of his forehead.

“The best.” Joe confirms. “When you write a bestseller we should buy our own cabin.”

“When you sell your first masterpiece you mean.” Nicky argues, covering his mouth as he yawns.

“Whichever comes first.” Joe agrees. “Sleep, Nicolò.”

“I am, I am.” Nicky mumbles. When his eyes finally close all the way Joe feels another wave of tenderness, wanting to kiss his eyelids and the end of his nose.

Joe falls asleep imagining Nicky in a tux. Nicky with a ring on his finger. The stars.


	3. Chapter 3

They’re both up before sunrise. Joe shuts his phone alarm off before it can play a third note but he still wakes Nicky. It’s not the brief little song that does it, it’s the feeling of Joe moving against him before he’s fully conscious. They shifted together at some point in the night, no doubt aided by the lumpy mattress and the cold cabin air, so Joe is spooned up tight behind him, warm and solid. When his alarm goes off he moves to slap his phone frantically and Nicky snaps awake with the feeling of Joe hard against his ass.

Joe must realize at the same time, he goes still and whispers very very quietly, “Shit.”

Nicky’s tempted to laugh but swallows it down, deciding if it was him he’d prefer Joe pretend nothing was happening.

“Nicky?” Joe asks, a tiny bit louder. There goes Nicky’s plan.

“Hmm?”

“Shit, sorry.” Joe whispers, pulling away, carefully keeping the blankets tucked around Nicky as he goes so he doesn’t let the cold air of the cabin under them. “I’m just, you know.”

“Fajr.” Nicky yawns around the word, letting his eyes slide closed again. His tired mind is utterly convinced Joe will come back and keep him warm again after his prayer.

“Right. Ha. That too. Sorry.” Joe says again. Nicky grumbles at this, too sleepy to explain properly that Joe doesn’t have to apologize, that he liked it, that he loves him. His eyes close and he fades back into sleep, warm and pleased.

Nicky jolts awake a couple hours later, terrified he said any of that out loud.

Joe isn’t in the cabin, the bathroom door is open and there’s sunlight streaming in the windows. Nicky has a hard time getting out of bed, the blankets are tucked up under him so tight he struggles with it. Clearly Joe thought he might get cold. He probably would have but he’s hot now, red faced, scrambling for his phone at the outlet to see if he’s ruined anything.

There’s only one text from Joe, it says **come for breakfast when you wake up! :)**

He has another from Quỳnh saying **don’t sleep all day Nicky I wont let Joe bring you food**

Andy has sent him a thumbs up, with zero context.

Nicky stumbles his way through his morning routine, nervous. It’s like his usual feeling of wanting to see Joe has been turned up to eleven, shifted from want to need. He needs to know that they’re okay. Managing to sneak in behind a group of somewhat hungover looking people in flannel and boots, Nicky sees Joe the same instant Joe sees him.

For the rest of his life he won’t stop being awestruck by the power of Joe’s smile.

“Good morning.” Nicky greets the table of his friends, most of them looking far more awake than he feels. They’ve had enough of a head start to drink coffee, he supposes.

Andy, Quỳnh, Lykon, his wife Korinna, and Booker respond in a chorus of hellos and good mornings. He’s surprised that Booker has snuck into the artists’ breakfast but not enough to ask about it yet, he has other priorities. Nicky sits next to Joe, relief flooding through him when Joe scoots his chair closer and whispers, “Did you sleep okay?”

Nicky knows what he’s really asking. It’s what he wanted to ask too. “Yes. Only, I slept longer than I wanted to, I thought you would wake me again to get food.”

It’s the word _'again'_ that makes Joe nervous, Nicky sees it and wishes he could take it back, snatch it from the air between them and swallow it back down. Obviously he shouldn’t have acknowledged that, what was he thinking.

“I felt bad enough for the first time.” Joe whispers back. There’s worry lines between his eyes that Nicky hates.

“Please don’t. Did _you_ sleep okay?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” Joe says, laughing a little. Nicky doesn’t join in, concerned that Joe’s laughing at himself, and then they’re interrupted by Quỳnh leaning over the table towards them.

“If you’re hiking with us you should grab something to eat, at least take it with you.” She says to Nicky.

He glances at Joe briefly, checking that he’s still alright with Nicky joining, but Joe just looks blankly at him for a second and then stands up.

“I got it.”

That’s not what Nicky meant but he reaches out to squeeze Joe’s hand as he goes, saying, “Thank you.”

Their friends are all smirking when he turns back around.

“He knows what you like, huh Nicky?” Lykon teases, waggling his eyebrows. Kori bursts into giggles which was probably the whole reason he did it. Nicky can appreciate that, he just shrugs and nods.

Before anybody else can joke about it he deflects, asking, “How did you bribe your way in here Booker?”

“I volunteered to help drive supplies up the mountain for the group.” Booker says, holding his coffee cup in both hands like a lifeline. Nicky doesn’t blame him, the room is loud and cheerful, their table particularly rampant with PDA, it’s a lot to take in.

“That’s kind of you.” Nicky says.

“Oh no, definitely a bribe for the food like you said.” Booker laughs, the table joining him, complimenting Quỳnh on the catering. Nicky thinks he’s deflecting too.

Joe comes back and slides into his chair quietly, not interrupting the way Andy and Kori are arguing passionately about something insignificant the way siblings do. He passes Nicky some coffee and food, pointedly shoving granola bars in his pockets too.

“Good?” Joe asks, a vague sort of question that could be checking in on anything. He probably just means to make sure he got Nicky something he would have gotten for himself.

Nicky shifts in his chair, turning, and leans in to kiss Joe’s cheek before he can second guess the desire to do it. Joe helpfully goes completely still, practically holding his breath until Nicky’s back in his own space. “Perfect, thank you.”

Joe clears his throat and says, “You’re welcome.”

Their table is suspiciously quiet. When Nicky looks up they’re all bent over someone’s phone. He wants to know what’s so interesting but doesn’t ask, just takes advantage of the moment to bump his shoulder against Joe’s and ask, “Do you have everything you need?”

“Yupp.”

“I only ask because you must have been packing it in the dark, very quietly, to not have woken me. And also, you almost forgot your toothbrush at home.”

“Nicky, come on, I would have remembered.”

“You wouldn’t, I waited until we were almost out the door to remind you.”

“I would have remembered in the elevator.”

“Liar.”

“I wouldn't lie to you Nicky!”

“You wouldn’t, that’s true.” Nicky says, easily conceding defeat, “In the elevator?”

“Well... at least before I turned the car on.” Joe argues, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Sure, sure.” Nicky agrees, grinning back. He’s still fairly certain Joe would have forgotten it without Nicky’s reminder, but enjoys the back-and-forth of this low stakes argument. It reminds him of the way they used to get during class discussions, egging each other on.

“Wow.” Kori says, stage whispering to Andy, “You weren’t kidding.”

“Should we get things moving?” Quỳnh asks, ignoring Joe and Nicky exchanging a confused glance that has Lykon bursting into laughter. She doesn’t wait for an answer, just stands from the table and bends to kiss Andy. That reminds Nicky that he might have crossed a line, but he turns to see Joe is touching the spot on his cheek that Nicky kissed him, and thinks maybe it was ok after all.

“Good?” Nicky asks, quiet, parroting Joe’s vague check-in back to him. Joe’s hand drops into his lap so fast it’s like he’s the one embarrassed. That can’t be right.

“Perfect.” Joe says, smiling at him, “Let’s hike.”

* * *

Joe likes the crunch of leaves under his boots and the way Nicky keeps stopping to take pictures on his phone of the different colors. They’re towards the back of the group because of this but he doesn’t mind, he’ll throw elbows at the top to get a good vantage point to paint if he has to. The trip up only takes about an hour but the first half is disarmingly flat, winding paths that bely how steep and difficult the second half will be. He’s looking forward to Nicky’s grumpy face when they make that transition and it’s even better than he expected, enough to have him bent over with breathless laughter.

Nicky, similarly breathless and hanging on to a nearby tree, off to the side so other people can pass them, flips him off. “Some of us don’t run every day, you show off.”

“Babe, I will carry you if you want but we can’t stop here forever.” Joe laughs. That would really be showing off, if he made it to the top with Nicky on his back. He’s honestly considering it because Nicky seems to be alarmingly more red-faced than before. “Are you okay? Do you need water?”

“No.” Nicky coughs, “No, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”

“You can do it.” Joe affirms, though he’s still tracking the color on Nicky’s cheeks, thinking about paint swatches and pantone codes.

They don’t stop again on the way up, not even for Nicky to take pictures. He’s moving forward like a man on a mission; if Joe takes his own sneaky photo of his back, the line of his shoulders and the flex of his ass, that’s just so he can prove to Nile they had a good time. She’ll see right through him, but that’s fun too.

His friends have saved a spot for him to set up his easel near the center of the pack, along an overlook that peers down into the valley below with the river running through. The colors of autumn are more of a shock from up here, the whole orange mountainside below them might as well be ablaze it’s so bright.

Allan rolls up next to him, locks the wheels on his wheelchair, and whistles appreciatively at the view. “Better than last year.”

“I think the rain does… something.” Joe agrees.

“Man, I don’t know, I haven’t learned any science in years.” Allan says, making them both laugh.

This is a less organized block of time for them, nobody’s leading the group although Quỳnh does remind them of the time every now and then. Most of them take breaks to stretch and walk along behind the line of canvases, stopping if someone asks for a second set of eyes. There’s a bit of a breeze, just the edge of too chilly, but Joe feels warmed through every time he hears Nicky’s voice.

‘Happy trees?” Nicky asks, and Joe’s focused on the angle of his brush but he knows Nicky’s smiling without turning around.

“Let’s put a little one right here.” Joe says, doing his best Bob Ross impression. “There he is.”

Allan and Nicky laugh at that, a harmony of sounds that Joe loves. He gets in the zone a little bit after that, hearing them talking softly to each other and aware of Nicky moving around behind him but not paying attention to anything beyond the stroke of his brush and trying to match the colors of the scene before him. It’s not until Nicky’s hand lands warmly on his shoulder that he realizes how much time has passed. This is the kind of mood that often has him drinking from his paintbrush water glass on accident at home.

“Getting chilly?” Joe asks, turning to look up at Nicky. Nicky’s only got eyes for the painting.

“A little.” Nicky agrees absently, rubbing his hand down along Joe’s arm and back up like he’s the one that needs warming. “I thought about stealing all your warmth but didn’t want to distract you. It’s beautiful.”

They used to share a blanket as spectators back at uni, watching Andy and Quỳnh play rugby or Nile’s football games. Nicky always said he was stealing Joe’s warmth then, and complained every time Joe jumped up to shout at the refs. Nevermind how often he was the one waving both arms in protest at a call.

“The view is beautiful.” Joe agrees. “If you want a turn at the canvas let me know.”

“Ah no, I’m more likely to jump and draw a line through your work than contribute anything.”

“Don’t let Bob Ross hear you say that.”

Before Nicky can argue that point, Quỳnh comes by with a folding chair. She has orange and yellow stripes along her forearm like she was testing lipstick rather than paint colors, and her hair is tied back in a neat bun. “Hey Nicky, want a chair? Some people are heading back for lunch.”

“Thank you.” Nicky agrees, taking it. He arranges himself just behind Joe and, with a satisfied little hum, wraps his arms around him, hooking his chin over Joe’s shoulder. Quỳnh looks like she wants to say something about this but only grins and shakes her head, continuing on her way.

“A _little_ chilly, huh?” Joe asks, laughing. He can still paint like this, and Nicky is a warm weight, but that level of attention on his work-in-progress has him a little nervous. It’s Nicky though. He starts working on the clouds.

Instead of the ones that are actually in the sky Joe paints the clouds they saw during lunch yesterday, the ones Nicky insisted looked like specific pasta shapes. He’s waiting to see if Nicky will notice, if he’ll call him on it. He waits a while, long enough that he’s fairly happy with the little slice of the landscape, at least as happy with it as he can be outside of nitpicking in his studio later. Nicky snores very softly in his ear. Joe decides he can fuss with the horizon a little longer.

Andy’s warning from the night before filters though his brain like a cool mountain breeze, making him shiver. Nicky is right here with him, has been for so long Joe can’t imagine not having him this close. If Nicky moved away like Andy and Quỳnh it would break his heart. Selfishly he’s been hoping Nicky doesn’t meet someone and get swept off his feet, glad that his work tends to keep him at home, though of course he deserves a romance for the ages. Joe thinks about living in their apartment alone, his mail piling up until it blocks the front door like a snowbank, his mother’s chili never quite right, no more stumbling out of his studio to find Nicky’s ordered his favorite takeout, no more laughing until he feels sick as Nicky rants about access to archival material, hands moving faster than his mouth. It doesn’t seem possible that he won’t dance with Nicky in their living room in the middle of spring cleaning for the rest of their lives.

“Hey.” Nicky mumbles, sleepy, rubbing his face against Joe’s shoulder. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah.” Joe says. He sounds choked off, like he’s been crying. Nicky squeezes him tighter.

“Are you okay? Sounds like you’re getting a cold or something.”

“I’m fine.” Joe assures him, “If you’re tired you could get a ride back down.”

Nicky’s quiet for a moment, his grip around Joe’s chest loosening until his arms fall away. He shifts backward from the hug and Joe’s regretting everything he’s ever said in his life, shivering again with genuine cold this time. Nicky clears his throat and whispers, “Okay.”

* * *

The trip back down the mountain is much shorter than the trip up, mostly because he squeezes into the van beside Allan and they take the winding road back to the cabins, but it feels even shorter than that because he’s distracted by thoughts of Joe. Nicky knows he didn’t imagine Joe call him _babe_. Joe didn’t even seem to realize. He’d spent so much time up on the mountain staring at Joe’s back and working up the nerve to touch him, convincing himself that cuddling wasn’t such an escalation from this morning, from a kiss on the cheek and a pet name. Then of course he only embarrassed himself by falling asleep. Joe probably couldn’t work at all with Nicky weighing him down.

Allan bumps their shoulders together to get his attention, looking concerned. Nicky tries to smile, realizing he must seem strangely grim. “Hey Nicky, let me introduce you to my sibling.” Allan says, gesturing to the row of seats behind theirs in the van, “Rachel, this is Joe’s boyfriend.”

Allan’s sibling has the same shock of red-hair and a face full of freckles that he has. They look about Nile’s age, not that Nicky’s very good at guessing, and wave awkwardly, saying, “Hi Nicky! I uh, I’ve read your book.”

“Nice to meet you.” Nicky's smile comes easier this time, turning his head at an awkward angle to talk over the seatback between them, “I hope it wasn’t too boring for an artist, Joe swears it wasn’t but he’s always too kind.”

“Oh, I’m not an-” Rachel starts, looking confused.

Allan laughs and talks over them, “Trust me Nicky, I’m the only artist in our family.”

Nicky murmurs an apology, asks Rachel what they study, and nods along to their answer until Allan interrupts and, eventually, the van stops at the cabins to let them off, but all he can think about is that Allan brought his sibling as a plus one. If Allan brought his sibling, Joe certainly could have brought his roommate, just his roommate and friend, not his boyfriend. Quỳnh would have stretched the rules for them even if they weren’t already as inclusive as Nicky now suspects. It’s less an epiphany and more a sinking feeling that he should have realized this days ago.

Saying goodbye and wandering back to the cabin on autopilot, he suddenly can’t think of a single reason Joe would let him think they should pretend to be dating this weekend besides pity. He doesn’t want to think Joe would do that, but nothing makes sense right now. He wouldn’t have thought Joe would let him kiss his cheek or call him babe either. He feels lost, adrift, alone in a sea of friends and acquaintances that all think he’s happily in love. Before they got here Nicky would have said he was. The problem is that his plan isn’t working. Every time Joe gives him more, more of his time and attention, more of the warmth of his hands and smile, Nicky just gets more addicted to it.

It feels _right_ , being Joe’s boyfriend. It felt right to go to bed together, to wake up like that.

Or, it did, before he walked smack into the realization that this is a game they aren’t playing for the same reasons and he doesn’t know what Joe’s reasons are. He’s scared again, hesitant to even think of meeting Joe’s gaze in case he sees it. If they call the whole thing off now there will just be more questions he doesn’t want to answer. Nicky can make it until tomorrow morning, or he tells himself he can, if he starts cutting himself off from Joe’s casual affection bit by bit.

Getting some work done in the cabin calms him down. The normalcy of answering emails and cursing at the wifi has him feeling less like his foundation is shaking apart. A combination of his stomach growling and a worried text from Joe ( _are you sleeping again? come and eat!_ ) lead Nicky to a major deja vu moment of pulling his boots on and hurrying to meet the others for food.

This time when Joe smiles to see him, Nicky tells himself very sternly not to smile back and go straight to him. This time he waves, points at the buffet and breaks eye contact, going to select his own meal. Joe knows what he likes but he’s not here to cater to Nicky, literally or figuratively, and Nicky has to stop distracting him. Surely it’s what they both want.

Only… Joe doesn’t make it seem that way. He throws his arm around Nicky’s shoulders when he sits down, stealing food off his plate, and telling someone across the table that his boyfriend is a published author. Nicky doesn’t mean to be as quiet and withdrawn as he knows he is while they eat. He doesn’t mean for Joe to pull his arm away and hesitate to include him in further conversation. The problem is he still can’t quite meet Joe’s eyes, hung up on the question of why in the world Joe would go along with this when he doesn’t want Nicky back.

* * *

“Alright,” Quỳnh says, pulling Joe away from the group that’s shuffling lethargically between cabins towards another seminar. Most everyone seems like they’d prefer a nap after the hiking, painting, and lunch, but Quỳnh is keeping them on task. “What did you do?”

Joe sighs, fiddling with his rings, “I don’t know, I’ll have to ask him after this.”

“You know you could skip.” Quỳnh says, managing a combination of playful and serious that normally would make Joe laugh. She’s advocating against her own interests here, since she’s the one that organized this whole event, but it makes sense that she’d do that for Nicky.

“Better to give him some space.” Joe decides, “Ha… wouldn’t want him to break up with me.”

Quỳnh doesn’t laugh. She reaches out and gives him a little shake, “I swear I thought you’d be braver than this.”

Looking up from scuffing the toe of his boot against the dirt path, Joe glances left and right quickly to make sure they’re alone. They are, their speaker is probably waiting for Quỳnh to introduce them to the group and he can just barely see someone peeking out the door of the meeting room cabin curiously at them. They’re alone enough for him to say, “Quỳnh, please tell me you didn’t send that invitation on purpose.”

“Of course I did.” She says, letting go of his arms so she can cross hers defensively. “You’re the idiots who decided plus one meant _significant other_. This isn’t a wedding, Joe! Even if it was, if I organized it you could have brought whoever you wanted!”

“But you were match-making us?” Joe checks, baffled.

“The point of this weekend is inspiration and mutual support and… and growth!” Quỳnh insists, struggling for a moment to find a nice way of saying they spend a lot of time tearing each other down and building back up again.

“Yeah, for art! Not…” Joe pauses, about to say _love_ , and freezes with the realization that this whole time he’s been making Nicky play along with this fake relationship for no reason but his own selfish desire. He never questioned that they should pretend, never even offered to check with Quỳnh to make Nicky more comfortable. He’s already done exactly what he insisted to Andy last night he wouldn’t do, asking Nicky for more of himself than he wants to give. After the distant way he was acting at lunch, Joe is sure that he’s already tired of it. He wants to go dunk his head in the cold mountain stream, wants to run to Nicky and apologize, offer to let him take the car home now.

Quỳnh makes an aggravated sound, frustration and impatience, and tugs him along behind her towards the waiting seminar. “Your face journey is taking too long. You can’t skip anymore, I changed my mind.”

“But, Quỳnh!” Joe protests, stumbling behind her. He _has_ to talk to Nicky now, surely she realizes that.

“No buts! You said you were giving him space, so you’re going to class. Maybe I’ll let you sneak away together during the fire tonight.”

Despite everything, Joe laughs. He still feels a little like his whole world is on fire and he’s the one that lit the match, but Quỳnh’s insistence that life will go on exactly as she scheduled it helps a great deal. Not to mention the thought of sneaking away with Nicky, even as he tries to resist wanting that to focus on asking for Nicky’s forgiveness. “Worst camp counselor ever.”

“Uh-huh.” Quỳnh agrees, pushing him into the room.

His friends laugh and wave him over but before he goes Joe grabs Quỳnh's hand to squeeze it just once and says, “Thank you.” Sure he’s still a little annoyed that she’s the reason he and Nicky are sharing a bed, but he knows she means well. It’s not her fault Nicky doesn’t want Joe back.

* * *

After lunch Nicky gets sucked back into work and research, losing himself to it and gratefully thinking about anything but the embarrassing situation he’s buried himself in this weekend. This is the same kind of trance that often leads him to thoughtlessly agree to anything Joe says to him at home, not really processing what he hears while he’s reading. It makes sense then that Quỳnh gets tired of knocking on the cabin door eventually and just lets herself in.

“You know, you should really lock that.” Quỳnh says, suddenly pulling up a chair at the little wooden table that’s been swallowed up by Nicky’s books and notes. He jumps, startled out of the middle of a particularly dense sentence, and Quỳnh grins as she adds, “I could’ve been a bear.”

Attempting to cover how easily she snuck up on him, Nicky scoffs and says, “You wish.”

“ _You_ wish.” Quỳnh teases, making his nonsense into a half-decent joke quick as a flash.

“Joe’s not a-” Nicky starts to say, then snaps his mouth closed and faceplants directly into his book with a groan. He can’t believe he thought he managed to not think about Joe for that long, clearly he’s just been in the back of Nicky’s mind, waiting for the slightest chance to focus on him again. His laughter lines. The freckle at the end of his nose. “Fuck.”

Quỳnh doesn’t laugh at him the way he expects. When he lifts his face from the book she’s looking at him thoughtfully like he’s a complicated math problem. He waits her out. They’re similar in this regard, sometimes they just need a minute. Eventually, she asks, “What’s wrong, Nicky?”

The quick flash of anger he feels surprises him. “I think you know.”

“I _don’t_.” Quỳnh replies, and seems to resist the urge to get defensive, “Is it Joe? I didn't think he would pressure you, or-“

“No, it’s. It’s not Joe, we’re fine. We _were_ fine before this weekend.” Nicky reigns himself in, getting quieter, tugging on his own hair a little. He isn’t mad at Quỳnh, even though she sent them the invitation. He’s not mad at Joe either, only confused, only scared.

“I don't know what you’re saying.” Quỳnh admits, leaning back in her chair. Nicky wonders why she came by, it’s definitely dark enough that they must be setting up for the s’mores that Joe loves so much but she wouldn’t have sat down with him if she didn’t want to talk about something. The two of them distract each other, get wrapped up in theoreticals; they used to have to study on opposite sides of the library where they couldn’t make eye contact. Nicky misses those days, misses when their biggest source of stress was finals, but he wouldn’t go back.

“Why did you do this?” He asks. It comes out a lot more dramatic than he intended, a personal failing, and this time Quỳnh does get defensive. Just because he’s not mad at her doesn’t mean he isn’t frustrated with the position she’s helped to put him in. Friends don’t set friends up to have to share a small bed with their long-time one-sided crush. That’s not buddies.

“Nobody made you come this weekend.” Quỳnh insists, scowling down at his notes and books, “And Nicky, I think you’re smart enough to have realized nobody made you be his boyfriend either. But you are!”

That stings. “I’m not.”

“Think about all the things you want in a relationship.” Quỳnh says, watching him carefully, reaching for his hand. “Think about those things and tell me you don’t have them with Joe right now. Tell me you haven’t been his boyfriend since… I don’t know when things changed for you.”

“I don’t either.” Nicky chokes out, squeezing her hand tight. He doesn’t know when his feelings changed, but he knows Joe’s haven’t. Joe’s never flirted with him the way Nicky’s seen him flirt. He’s very effective, Nicky wouldn’t have missed it. Sure they live together, cook together, vent to each other, support each other’s creative work and have their own little family in their own little home, but those aren’t the only things Nicky wants. It took a while to realize it, to understand that he does want more from Joe specifically, that he was waiting for something that wasn’t coming. “He doesn’t want me.”

“Nicky.”

“No.” Nicky says, emphatic, shaking his head, “No, Quỳnh, let’s not wallow in it. Let’s go have s’mores, that’s what you came to get me for, isn’t it? I’ll stop clinging to him, I swear I will, and we can all go back to normal tomorrow. This has been... a good dream, but it can’t last forever.”

Quỳnh shakes her head too, pursing her lips. After a moment she sighs, squeezes his hand back, and then pulls hers away to get her cellphone out of her pocket. “Look at this.” She says, opening a photo and zooming in slightly before she sets it on the book he’d just had his face in.

It’s him and Joe, at breakfast this morning. He’s kissing Joe on the cheek, and Joe… Joe looks…

This must have been what all their friends were looking at across the table. The thought of that has something in Nicky squirming with embarrassment, he hits the lock button on Quỳnh’s phone, making the picture disappear so he’s stuck looking at his own frown in the black mirrored reflection of the screen. “I have to talk to him. Right now.”

* * *

Though it’s early in the evening, the scene around the campfires already has the celebratory air of a party that’s going to go all night long. It sure did last year. They’re set up not far from the perfectly square grove where Joe threw himself into Nicky’s hammock the other day. That feels like forever ago. He resists the urge to be maudlin before he talks to Nicky properly but that happiness feels just out of reach now.

Joe and Kevin tap their plastic containers of salad together in a cheers motion, watching some of their friends attempt to roast hot dogs over the fire skeptically. Quỳnh, after wandering by to make sure everyone had more to eat than marshmallows, had made loaded eye contact with Joe and nodded her head in the direction of the cabins. Joe could only shrug.

Joe’s been practicing what he wants to say to Nicky in his head for the past few hours, spacing out through most of the seminar and the master class that followed. He’ll get notes from someone later, use it as an excuse to reconnect when they’re all back home. It’s hard to focus on anything right now, he’s stuck in a state of waiting for Nicky. Nicky doesn’t make him wait long.

Seeing him in the firelight is a revelation. He isn’t shuttered and withdrawn the way he’d been at lunch, or sleepy and affectionate like this morning. He looks _furious_. Joe’s self aware enough about his feelings for Nicky at this point that he doesn’t hesitate to classify his reaction as startled arousal. He’s still working out how best to hide that when Nicky starts dragging him away from the group by the bicep, barely giving him enough time to set his salad down.

Joe sees Quỳnh mouthing “fix this” at him, and then he’s stumbling after Nicky until they’re alone a few meters into the woods. They stop in a seemingly arbitrary spot where all he can hear are the muted sounds of laughter and conversation back the way they came and Nicky getting his breathing under control ahead of him. He’s trying to work out how to prompt Nicky to speak, how to ask what’s wrong when he knows what’s wrong, trying to remember how his perfect apology started in his head, when Nicky turns on his heel and starts talking like they started this conversation already.

“I’m not your boyfriend.” He’s still unfairly gorgeous, like he brought the fire with them out here and it’s reflecting in his eyes.

Joe barely manages to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat to speak, “I… I know that, Nicky. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Nicky interrupts him, pacing a few feet away and then turning back, getting close enough to point at Joe’s chest accusingly, “You said: Quỳnh _of all people_ knows that’s not true! Of all people! You said that Joe!”

“I did say that.” Joe admits quietly, though he barely remembers it. He probably said a lot of bullshit a week and a half ago, trying to cover up how Nicky’s reaction to the idea of them dating made him feel. He’s feeling it again now.

Nicky makes a wounded sound and keeps going, like it’s bursting out of him, “What Quỳnh _knows_ is that I spent several drunken nights in college crying my eyes out after watching you go home with somebody else. What Quỳnh _knows_ is that we didn't talk for a month because she said I shouldn’t move in with you, that it would only hurt me! We fought about it and I _was_ hurt, too hurt to see I was being an ass! I can't believe you two would do this.”

“We didn’t plan anything, Nicky, I swear it. I said that because I thought you and she… before Andy… I thought that’s why you never dated anyone, that you were hung up on her.” Joe confesses. The true and embarrassing reason he said what he said, not realizing it hurt Nicky as much as himself, is better than Nicky thinking he’s playing some kind of game with him. Anything’s better than that.

Nicky stares at him, blinking slowly a few times as he processes what Joe’s saying. He takes a step back when he sinks in. “Hung up on… on Quỳnh?”

“Yes!” Joe says, then quieter, “I don’t know. Is it that stupid?”

Nicky snorts, turning around again like he’s going back to pacing, “Joe, please. That’s not funny.” This time he doesn’t immediately turn around, walking restlessly further into the dark woods.

“I’m not trying to be!” Joe insists, tripping after him. Feeling caught up in the storm of this probably inevitably poor ending to their weekend of pretending, in the still unclear maelstrom of Nicky’s anger, he pleads, “Please Nicky, please stop walking away for a moment, it feels like you’re-“

“What?” Nicky stops, half-turning back but not quite looking at him.

Joe stops too, a few feet behind, embarrassed to hear his voice crack a little. “Please don’t run away from me, _please_ don’t leave. I couldn't take it if it you moved out, or-“

“Joe, no, I’m not…” Nicky does look at him then, concern erasing fury. He sighs, like this isn’t going how he meant it to, and gestures at a log just off the path, “Can we sit?”

It’s slightly damp and probably home to tiny creatures Joe doesn’t want to think about, but he sits immediately. Something loosens in his chest when Nicky sits next to him with the same lack of hesitation, close enough that their knees touch. Everything feels better with Nicky next to him. They’re further from the group now, maybe slightly too far, and the sun has set enough that Nicky’s face is just about all that he can see clearly. The quiet out here is pervasive, overwhelming, like the whole forest is waiting for what Nicky has to say too.

Nicky clasps his hands together in his lap, preventing himself from gesturing wildly with them, and scowls down at them for a moment before he starts talking again. “I know I’m not like most people. By the time I figure out I like someone, that I’m interested in them in the way that… well, it’s usually too late. I know that we may have missed our moment and I was fine with that because, miraculously, I still got to have you in my life every day!”

Somewhere in the middle of that Joe started holding his breath. It sounds like… but that can’t be what Nicky’s saying. “Nicky?”

* * *

He takes a deep breath and says, too loud, “I was hung up on _you_! I always have been, and pretending this weekend has proved to me I always will be!”

Joe looks like he’s been slapped, sucking in a loud, shocked breath, and then tears well up in his eyes. Nicky reaches for him before he can think about it, grateful when his brain does catch up that Joe is clinging back, hugging him so tight it almost hurts. He’s trying to figure out where he hurt Joe in all that yelling when Joe pulls back just far enough to search his face. “Please, can I kiss you?”

“What?” Nicky asks, then his brain catches up, “Yes.”

They pull each other in like magnets. It’s a movie kiss, every part of it perfect except that it ends. Nicky barely has time to categorize the heat that flows through him from the literally breathtaking combination of Joe’s hand on his face and the brush of his beard, the press of his mouth warm and sweet and achingly good, before Joe is pulling back again to talk.

“You are more to me than-“

Later, Nicky will be embarrassed he interrupted, but the cold fear that rushes in with the absence of Joe’s mouth on his has him begging, “Joe, please, do not play with me, I can’t do this if you don’t-“

“I’m trying to say I love you, Nicolò! You’re going to have to let me say it in many more words than that, I’ve been storing them up.” Joe says. He takes Nicky’s hand and puts it on the left side of his chest, saying, “Right here.”

Nicky, shaking slightly with the emotional turbulence of the night bites his lip and shivers to see Joe look so openly, so appreciatively, at his mouth. “Like what?”

“You are more to me than luck, more than miracles.” Joe says, his hands going to Nicky’s waist, spreading warmth. “Nicky, Nicky. You make me better, happier, every single day. You make me want to live forever.”

“Me?” Nicky says, incredulous, “Joe, you… you…” Nicky gives up on words for a moment and lifts his free hand to Joe’s face so he can pull him into another kiss. He leaves his other hand on Joe’s chest between them, imagining he can hear Joe’s heart beating. “I love you.” He whispers as they slowly pull apart again. “Is it okay to say it like that? I could try to-“

Joe is crying again. “Nicky, it’s perfect, you’re perfect. I’m sorry for making you think I could ever make fun of you for-“

“It’s okay Joe, I didn't mean- I was embarrassed.”

“Why would you be?”

“I... really liked being your boyfriend this weekend. I thought it was so obvious that you must be playing along for my sake.”

“Nicky…” Joe says, “I was embarrassed too. For waking up like that obviously but also for running my mouth last year and liking the way everyone assumed you felt the same.”

“I do.” Nicky reminds him, just to be clear. Joe smiles into their next kiss, Nicky feels like he can taste it. “And I liked it, waking up like that.”

“Like _that_?” Joe asks, eyes sparkling. He’s teasing, the way he always does, but there’s a new edge to it Nicky already loves. If it always comes with Joe's hands squeezing his hips, all the better.

“Yes.” Nicky says, “I thought you knew when you caught me singing, after modeling for you-“

“For the group!” Joe protests, and lowers his voice to add, “For Quỳnh, I thought.”

“For you.” Nicky insists, “Not at first maybe, but in the room I wasn't looking at anybody else. In the shower I wasn’t thinking about anybody else.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it again sometime?” Joe asks.

“Yes.” Nicky says, certain of the answer regardless of whether Joe means modeling or… the other thing. He must be blushing a little, because Joe’s hands raise to his face, thumbs brushing gently along his cheekbones.

“I really love you.” Joe says, like he’s awed by the comfort of saying it out loud.

They kiss out there in the woods long enough that both their phones start buzzing with annoyed text messages from Quỳnh, asking if they’re still alive. Then they kiss a little longer, until she starts calling and Nicky pulls his hand free from where it snuck up under Joe’s sweater.

“You must be hungry.” Joe says, glancing up at him from under those long dark eyelashes, face half-illuminated by his phone as he texts back Quỳnh without watching his thumbs on the virtual keyboard.

“Yeah.” Nicky agrees, voice a little rough. He doesn’t mean it to sound the way he does, that he’s hungry for Joe, but it’s hard not to sound that way when he _is_. Still, after working for hours and then diving straight into love confessions and making out, he’s hungry for dinner too.

Joe laughs, leaning in for another kiss. And another. He’s too good at it, Nicky’s been waiting too long to know that to stop and prioritize like a functional adult.

“Last year we figured out how to get up onto the roof of the main building. That’s where Quỳnh says some of the group snuck away to… Would you, after we eat I mean, would you stargaze with me?”

That is definitely too much for Nicky to handle on an empty stomach. He nods, taking Joe’s hand when they stand up, and takes a moment to marvel at how easy it is, how instinctively they fit together without the fear keeping them apart. The walk back doesn’t take long, but it’s long enough for Joe to interrupt Nicky’s quiet humming to ask, “Hey Nicky? Why were you so mad at me before?”

“Oh.” Nicky huffs, thinking about that picture again, “Quỳnh showed me a picture of us, from breakfast. I was kissing your cheek--I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry, and--”

“Nicky you can kiss whatever… I mean, you know, it’s fine.” Joe coughs.

“You looked so happy.” Nicky says, “You’re not that good an actor.”

“Hey!”

“You’re not! So I thought… Maybe you liked it. But then you told me to go, after the hike, and I realized pretending to be your boyfriend was unnecessary this whole time. I was hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” Joe says, quiet, slowing down as they approach the group again, firelight reflecting in his eyes, “That’s what I meant to say as soon as I saw you again. I’m sorry for taking advantage, when you didn’t know how I felt.”

“You didn’t know how I felt either.” Nicky points out and then slowly smiles, “You do now.”

“Yeah.” Joe agrees, smiling just as wide. “Do you think Quỳnh will send me that picture?”

“Oh, god.” Nicky’s smile drops away as he comes to a stop and, when Joe stops beside him, turns to drop his forehead to Joe’s shoulder. It feels so nice when Joe instinctively holds him and waits for him to talk. “She’s never going to let us forget this.”

Joe laughs and hugs him tighter, “I think we can handle a little bit of laughter, she won’t do it in front of the others.”

“Andy will.”

“...Shit.”

* * *

Joe pulls him up onto the roof, laughing when his feet scramble against the wooden wall as he goes, laughing harder when Nicky shoves him onto his side for it. Their friends are watching them with the same knowing grins they’ve had on their faces all weekend and finally Joe understands why. It’s worth it, even getting that look from Booker who barely knows them is worth it, because Nicky’s holding his hand. Nicky loves him.

Clearly Quỳnh planned for this final part of the weekend too, throwing them a blanket and telling them not to wrestle up here because she won’t be driving them to the hospital when they fall off the roof. Nicky rolls his eyes and, with the same mischievous look that precluded him sitting in Joe’s lap, throws the blankets over their heads for the illusion of privacy so he can press Joe against the roof and kiss him silly. Joe melts, hanging on to Nicky’s wide shoulders above him, and kisses back appreciatively until Nicky tugs the blanket down and lets him up. By then their friends have moved on, talking about their favorite moments from the past couple days. Joe’s is right now.

They settle near Andy and Quỳnh, shuffling carefully across the roof with their hands clasped, mirroring them in a way. Quỳnh’s leaning up against Andy, Andy’s fingers combing gently through her hair over and over. Joe tugs Nicky up against his chest too, wrapping the blanket around them both to keep warm. Booker is flat on his back on their other side, the only one really stargazing it seems. Lykon and Kori are playing an ill conceived card game, interrupting the conversation by bursting into laughter as they almost lose a card to gravity and the slope of the roof.

Nicky takes that opportunity to apologize to Quỳnh. Joe echoes him sheepishly, though he’s been trying to focus on the positives he’s equally embarrassed by how long they could have had this, how obviously foolish they’ve been to the people who know and love them.

“It’s okay.” Quỳnh says, tangling her fingers with Andy’s, “Did I ever tell you about how Andy and I got together?”

“Not that I remember.” Nicky admits. Joe’s never asked either.

“Only tell the short version.” Andy says, “We’ll make them sit through the long one at the wedding.”

Quỳnh laughs agreeably, “Right, well, you remember before I had contacts? I was trying to take my shirt off, but forgot I was wearing glasses so I got tangled and paused halfway through. Andy walked in, looking for my roommate, and said ‘nice tits’.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence before Joe bursts out laughing, “No! You didn’t!” Nicky’s laughing too, though he’s quieter about it Joe can feel him shaking.

“I did.” Andy admits, “Not my finest moment, but I wasn’t thinking! She’s too hot for logical thought to remain in my head when I see her.”

“And then she pulled my glasses off, so I was standing there, shirtless, and-“

“And then you said-“

At this point both Andy and Quỳnh are laughing too hard to really tell their story and Nicky has turned away to bury his face in Joe’s chest, saying, “Oh my god. You’re right, Joe and I aren't embarrassing at all.”

“I didn't say not at all.” Quỳnh teases, “I just think it matters more what you do now, and less how you got your shit together.”

Joe drops a kiss on Nicky’s shoulder in silent agreement. He sure that what they’re going to do now is hold each other close and have a few awkward conversations. Part of him is already planning dates.

“You will take credit though.” Nicky shoots back, smirking.

“Oh, naturally.” Quỳnh agrees. “I deserve this Nicky, I’ve been hearing about Joe’s hands, and curls, and _poetry_ for way too long.”

“You said you hated my poetry.” Joe grumbles, though he’s delighted by this turn of events. It’s just like Nicky’s mom showing him baby photos of Nicky, hearing details of Nicky’s uni crush on him. He still hardly believes it, part of him insisting that Nicky was crushing on Quỳnh, but it’s easy to laugh at that part of him when Nicky’s in his arms and Quỳnh is the one snitching on Nicky.

“I thought you were writing about other people.” Nicky mumbles. “I mean, it’s fine that you were. It’s fine if you never wrote about me, I just, I couldn’t handle it then. I didn’t want to hear you call someone else an ocean.”

Joe can’t believe he remembers that metaphor, can’t believe Nicky just thoughtlessly quoted one of the poems that _was_ about him. “I did write about you.” He whispers, “I tried not to share those with you in case I was being too obvious, but of course I did Nicky. You can read them all, if you want, or I’ll write you more when we’re back home.”

“Home.” Nicky agrees, twisting around to kiss him. Joe’s equally moved by this casual gesture, the soft brush of Nicky’s lips setting butterflies loose in his stomach. This isn’t like the playful kissing from a few minutes ago under the blanket, or the slightly desperate making out from the woods. It feels more like a promise, witnessed by Quỳnh and Andy and whoever might be looking.

A playing card finally slips off the edge of the roof before any of them can grab it, and the resulting card fight between Lykon and Kori derails all romantic conversation. They stay up much later than they mean to, laughing and joking and explaining their strange joint history to Booker. When the cold night air convinces them to say goodnight, Joe tries not to look too excited about getting back into bed with Nicky. Those same knowing smiles let him know he doesn’t quite manage it.

* * *

Despite his best efforts, this time it is a little awkward to settle down in the silence of their cabin, lumpy mattress pulling them together just as effectively as Quỳnh’s matchmaking. Nicky gets overwhelmed by the wave of _want_ rushing through him as Joe climbs under the covers behind him and he forgets to turn around. Then he’s afraid it might send the wrong message. Joe’s warm hand gently tracing the length of his spine has him relaxing again.

“Would you feel better if we talked about it?” Joe asks, and he sounds so serious about it that Nicky works up the nerve to roll over and face him.

“Maybe.” Nicky says, “Only, I don't know where to start.”

“I could… You could hold me?” Joe suggests, gesturing like he could turn away, “So I won’t be looking right at you and I can ask questions? Would they be easier to answer like that?”

“Oh. No, Yusuf, I never mind you looking at me.” Nicky says. Joe only blinks at him for a second, a shy smile finding its way onto his face. “What?”

“You never call me that.”

“Well, you said _call me Joe_ so many times in classes and everything I thought… I dont know, I thought I wasn’t saying it right.”

“I like the way you say it. Call me whatever.” Joe says, but he does seem affected. Strangely, this feels like a moment of change, Nicky’s instant decision to call him Yusuf more often. Joe of course, takes this opportunity and runs with it, “Can I call you babe?”

“Yes.” Nicky says. He doesn’t feel the need to mention that Joe already has, he’ll save that one to tell Nile later, see how Joe likes being teased about his crush. He already knows Joe will love it.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Honey?”

“ _Yusuf_ , stop it, you’re making me-“ Nicky cuts himself off but reaches for Joe, giving in to the urge to cling and cuddle closer. It’s a lot to adjust to at once, even though he knows Joe loves pet names.

“Okay, okay. I wanted to ask about, well. You’re attracted to me? Sexually?”

“Yes.” Nicky assures him, and then laughs, “I didn't make that obvious enough with…?”

“A guy likes to know for sure.” Joe protests.

“Alright. So, you-“

“Nicolò, fuck. You’re so hot.” Joe says, dropping his voice and clutching tight to the fabric of Nicky’s soft sleep shirt. He really means it.

“Oh.”

“Babe, you knew that. You have to know that.”

“I… do I?”

“Nicky.” Joe groans. It’s nearly four in the morning and they’ve had a long, emotionally taxing day. Nicky’s pretty sure Joe would willingly prove exactly how attracted they are to each other right now, and the nervous part of him is tempted to get the awkward first time he’s expecting over with, but Quỳnh was right earlier. It matters how they move forward together.

“Can we wait?” Nicky blurts out, then back pedals to clarify before Joe insists he’ll wait as long as Nicky needs, “Just until we’re home?”

Joe grins, nodding so his curls make noise brushing against the pillows. “Of course.”

Nicky shifts even closer so he can kiss him, too tempted by Joe’s lower lip to stop himself. The problem is, neither of them look very sleepy now. He can only guess that Joe’s also thinking about the possibility of having sex tomorrow. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Joe asks, “I mean, don’t apologize. I’m sure to have good dreams now.”

“Yeah?” Nicky grins, licks his lips, and leans into the instinct to flirt, “Should I turn around again?”

Joe reacts the same way he’s reacted all weekend, with unbridled delight. Nicky will never stop feeling like an idiot about this, but he’s equally pleased at the outcome. “I wasn’t going to ask…” Joe jokes, but when Nicky snorts and kisses him once more before turning in his arms, he doesn’t complain. He presses as close as he can, sighing deeply at how perfectly they fit together. Nicky’s glad Joe can’t see him get a little teary eyed, he isn’t sure he could explain it.

It might be his exhaustion speaking but this feels both inevitable and like a miracle. Joe’s true, open affection and the warmth of his body isn’t just a dream. Though Joe falls asleep very soon after they settle this way, Nicky stays up laughing to himself, thinking he’s still not Joe’s boyfriend. Whatever this is feels like the beginning of far more than that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (less a fourth chapter and more a porny epilogue)

On the drive back, Nicky takes a picture of their entwined hands and sends it to Nile with the caption: **thanks for the playlist, have a great story to tell you**

Joe grins as he reads it to him and says, “Stop making me want to kiss you while I’m driving.” 

“You said that an hour ago,” Nicky argues, “And all I was doing was singing.” 

“Exactly!” Joe laughs, “You’re putting us both in danger by being irresistable.” 

“Ridiculous.” Nicky huffs, grinning ear to ear. He’s pretty sure Joe knows he doesn’t mean it, but he still follows up after a moment with a quiet, “I love you.” 

Joe squeezes his hand. “Love you too.” 

Nicky doesn’t know how to ask for all the things he wants from Joe, he’s never known. There’s no checklist, it’s usually just _more_ of whatever Joe already does for him, says to him. Nicky’s greedy for him. He asked to wait until they got home but he didn’t realize what it would feel like stepping through their front door together again. The hunger sets in almost as soon as he dumps his bags back in his room and hears Joe’s bed creak as he throws himself on it with a dramatic huff. Nicky can picture it perfectly. He wants to see for himself, wants a lot more than that. 

Joe’s door is open when he quietly knocks on it, leaning against the frame and trying to figure out what to say. 

“You wanna makeout?” Joe asks, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in invitation, his grin carefully calculated to make Nicky laugh at himself and nod enthusiastically. 

He climbs onto the bed next to Joe awkwardly, or, it feels awkward but then Joe’s hands are there, tugging him closer. Joe is warm, always has been. He was the best person to cuddle up to during a winter fire drill at the dorms, the best person to sit next to on the bleachers, cheering on their friends, and Nicky finds he’s also the best person to untuck his shirt and get those warm hands against his skin. They’re kissing before Nicky can worry about the angle of their faces, kissing before he thinks to ask if he should keep his eyes open. 

Joe is good at it, encouraging when Nicky climbs over him, kissing with a reverence, a sweetness. Nicky is clutching at his face at making little pleased noises that probably sound dumb but he can’t stop because it feels so good. Joe’s hands under his shirt, Joe’s tongue in his mouth, Joe’s nose pushing into his cheek. The sensation of his beard is nearly overwhelming to Nicky, who has spent far too long imagining it, imagining it other places too. 

With one of Joe’s legs between his, Joe’s hands clutching at his waist, Nicky’s imagining that all over again. It’s not long until his jeans feel tight. He doesn’t know if it’s too fast or extremely belated that this is the first time he’s ever shifted and, with deliberate slowness, rubbed up against Joe’s thigh. Joe tears his mouth away from Nicky’s messily, gasping.

He flexes his thigh, making Nicky thrust up again instinctively. Nicky buries his face in Joe’s shirt immediately after, blushing, holding himself still. 

“Hey, don’t hide, I worked hard making that mouth so red.”

“ _Yusuf_.” Nicky groans. His lips are tingling. 

“Babe.” Joe replies, grinning away. He gets a hand between them over Nicky’s crotch, gives him a squeeze, and says, “You want to do something with this?”

Nicky seriously thinks he’s going to dissolve into a thousand embarrassed particles of dust, but he finds it in him to make a smartass comment anyway, “I _was_ doing something with it.” 

“We don’t have to.” Joe says. It’s difficult to focus on what he’s saying and not just the slick temptation of his mouth when he’s rubbing Nicky through his pants. “I tried not to think about having you naked in my bed when you were down the hall, but if you want to rub off on me I think we’d both prefer you didn’t keep your clothes on.” 

“I should strip for both of our sakes?” Nicky laughs, but already he can tell Joe has a point. 

“I could too. Whatever you want.” He’s toying with the button on Nicky’s jeans and when he glances up at Nicky his eyelashes flutter in a way that must be on purpose. It’s worse if it’s not a move, it works too well. 

Nicky presses into his hands and says, “Yeah, I want to see you. Want you to touch me.” 

It is a little awkward and fumbling then, the way Nicky imagined with some dread the night before, and he’s surprised how much he loves it. Joe ubuttoning him, pausing for another kiss, dragging the zipper down in the middle and grinning against Nicky’s mouth when the sensation makes him gasp. Nicky bites his lip too hard and Joe pulls his hair as they try in vain to tug Nicky’s jeans down over his ass still laying side by side until, eventually, they admit defeat. 

The uncoordinated way Nicky climbs off the bed to his feet and strips his shirt off in a hurry might not be sexy, but watching Joe sit up and throw his off definitely is. Especially when he’s just as businesslike about ridding himself of his pants, lifting his hips off the bed and then back down, tugging them off at the ankles. Nicky finds himself standing a few feet away, shirt in hand, jeans unbuttoned and hanging open, waiting for Joe to look back at him. When he does, eyes trailing down Nicky’s chest for a moment before they snap back up to his face, Nicky drops the shirt and climbs back onto the bed. A few feet is too far, another second wasted not kissing Joe right now is unacceptable. 

Only when he’s kneeling between Joe’s spread legs, his fingers entwined behind Joe’s head tangled in his curls and his neck bent down to kiss him, does Nicky realize he should have spent a few seconds taking his pants off first. Joe doesn’t seem to mind that he’s being devoured, in fact he has an arm looped around Nicky’s waist and he’s squeezing Nicky’s ass with his other hand. Still, Nicky doesn’t want him to think he changed his mind about them both being naked here. He eases off, convincing himself slowly to stop kissing Joe just for a moment, and tugs at Joe’s hair until he stops chasing after Nicky’s mouth for more. It takes a while, Nicky’s toes are curling with the pleasure of Joe’s attention. The way he’s looking up at him in this position, Nicky’s arms resting on his shoulders, makes Nicky feel more attractive than anything or anyone ever has. 

“Sorry,” He whispers. Joe snorts and leans forward to plant a kiss on Nicky’s chest, like being denied his mouth even for a moment has left him bereft. “Let me up and I’ll try not to get distracted this time.” 

Joe laughs and releases him, stroking his hand across the small of Nicky’s back in a way that makes him shiver. “Don’t be sorry, do be naked.”

“Okay.” Nicky agrees, laughing with him, walking backwards off the bed on his knees. He almost does get distracted again, feeling the back of his neck go hot because his eyes slip down from Joe’s dark eyes and red mouth to the hair on his chest, the easy sprawl of his limbs, his hard cock. Joe doesn’t seem to notice, he’s watching Nicky’s hands shove his pants down. “You don’t have to say anything.” 

Joe reaches for him immediately, pulling him into another kiss. They’re getting good at that. “I do actually, I do have to tell you how much I love every part of you. I’ve been holding it in, Nicky.”

“Have you?” Nicky mumbles, skeptical. Joe must catch it because he pinches Nicky’s ass, hard enough on bare skin to make him yelp. “Hey!” 

“Sorry,” Joe says, rubbing at the same spot with warm hands, “All weekend I’ve been trying not to kiss you. I thought you didn’t want this from anyone and I was too chicken to ask.” 

“It’s okay.” Nicky whispers, leaning into him, the two of them tipping back towards the bed slowly enough that he gets to watch Joe’s abs flex with the movement, “I still think you’re out of my-”

It’s Joe’s turn to protest like he’s been goosed, instinctively cutting off the joke, “Hey, no, I love you Nicky. You _are_ my league.” 

“Is that the poetry I was promised?” Nicky teases. 

Joe laughs hard enough that he arches his neck back and Nicky feels his stomach moving where they’re pressed together. Nicky presses them closer in response, leaning in to kiss the long line of Joe’s throat and to feel the soft scratch of his beard. Tentatively, he rolls his hips down too, and Joe’s laugh melts into a groan. Now both his hands are on Nicky’s ass. He’s not pushing, he hasn’t pushed this whole time, but Nicky almost wishes he would. 

He tries again, rubbing up against Joe like this feels better than he thought it would. It’s good enough that he forgets to be self conscious about it, good enough that the thought of dripping precum against Joe’s skin makes him groan and do it. Joe’s eyes are closed, mouth open, and when Nicky really grinds down into him his hands clench reflexively on Nicky’s ass. 

“Is this good?” Nicky asks, soft, trying to avoid the temptation to kiss him before he has a chance to reply. 

Luckily they’re on the same page, Joe takes a hand off his ass to pull Nicky into a kiss by the back of his neck before he answers properly. “Really good. Keep going? Or, if you want a hand-” 

Nicky makes a soft noise of complaint at the idea of touching Joe any less than he is now, no matter how much easier it might be to get off with Joe’s hand gripping them tightly together. His body weight is enough, it feels too good to flex his thighs and arch his back and frot rough against Joe with their legs tangled and their chests pressed close.

“Is this- is this enough for you?” Nicky has to ask. 

“Fuck, yes, baby don’t stop.”

“Are you, ah, sure? I wanted to taste you, I mean, next time I will. Or now, if you can’t-” 

“I can.” Joe swears, hips jumping, “Keep talking?” 

“Put your hand back.” Nicky counters, waiting until Joe squeezes his ass in both hands to say, much quieter, “I want to suck your cock.” He’s never said that before, to anyone, but he trusts Joe not to laugh.

Joe very much does not laugh. His head thunks backwards, baring his throat to Nicky again, and he groans something that might be the word ‘yes’. Nicky hopes it is. 

“I thought about it, at the cabin, in the shower. Getting on my knees.” 

“Nicky.” Joe groans, “I thought about-”

“Tell me.” 

Joe’s hands squeeze his ass again, urging him into a faster pace. Nicky’s coordination is breaking down, both losing steam and approaching the edge of something suddenly terrifying. 

“Want you to feel good.” Joe says, then all in a rush, “If you don’t kiss me right now I’m going to shout so loud the neighbors hear us.” 

A second ago Nicky couldn’t have begun to express what he needed to keep from flying apart. He didn’t have to. The press of their mouths, now so familiar it aches, and Joe’s vow are the best possible reminders that they’re in this together now. Fear can’t touch him when Joe is. He’s looking forward to watching Joe fall apart next time, but this close, holding him down, Nicky can’t tell which one of them comes first. They set each other off, slick heat spreading. It’s frantic and messy and the hottest moment of Nicky’s life. 

He drifts lazily off of Joe afterward, deciding it’s best not to totally squish him this early in their relationship but sticking close, clinging to his side. They stay like that even after Joe stretches with a deeply satisfied groan, hot enough that all Nicky can do is hum his agreement and rub teasingly at the mess they made. They need a shower. 

When neither of them speaks, or moves an inch further apart, Nicky finds himself dozing off. Joe turns towards him. Their noses brush. His hand strokes up and down Nicky’s spine a few times before it comes to rest, pointedly, on his ass. 

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Hmm?” 

“Do you want your usual from down the street?”

“Yes, but Joe?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s have it delivered.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was absolutely a labor of love and I am very grateful to everyone who listened to me whine about it and didn't let me delete it before it was done and in this final form. Thank you so so much to my artist ladivvinatravestia for depicting some of my favorite parts of this fic! Thanks also to the mods of the big bang, this was my first and it was a blast.


End file.
